9.
She'd felt it before, but after meeting William Riker the feeling intensified: everything was on the brink of disappearing, and everyone's job seemed to be just to push back, to keep things existing for one more day. Everyone that was someone, that is - Kira, Jadzia, Julian, and people like Riker. Everyone else's job, especially Ziyal's, was to keep out of the way as much as possible.
Which was why Ziyal was so astonished when Kira told her Commander Sisko had invited them both to dinner at their quarters, together with Bashir, Jadzia, and a few others. A regular party. Ziyal was horrified. Was this an elaborate set-up? Maybe this Riker person had told the Commander everything about her and they just wanted to get her into a small space with a lot of people to overpower her more easily? If that was the plan, they were certainly in for a surprise.
Next saturday, 7 hundred hours station time, Tora Ziyal stepped into the Commander's quarters, wearing her best dress and three small knives hidden on her person. The Commander and the other guests greeted her warmly - including Commander William T. Riker, of the Starship Enterprise, who was there for a number of strategy meetings with Starfleet personnel and the Bajoran militia. So she was told. Again, the look of recognition and regret on his face when he looked at her. She could feel his eyes on her all through the evening, but they didn't talk much, and if he knew something about her, it became clear very soon that he had no intention of revealing it - yet. Soon they were all sitting around the dinner table, eating something delicious and spicy apparently called Gum-Bo, and Ziyal began to realise whose idea this party really had been, and why she was here.
Sisko definitely *was* a diplomat, and it was all very subtle. He started out asking about her time at the University, about the people she'd met there and how she liked them. Tora felt for the knife hidden in her sleeve, but Sisko switched the conversation to her studies. He seemed genuinely interested in her choice of literature as her main field of study and launched into a little speech about the wonders of fiction, followed by a rather predictable sigh about how much he loved to read and how little time he had for it. Suddenly, he jumped up, went into the bedroom, and came back with a couple of volumes, beautifully bound in what looked like authentic leather.
"Here, I want you to have these."
"But Commander, I could't possibly…"
But she was already opening them, caressing their pages, making them hers. "Middlemarch", by George Eliot.
Explain! Tell a man to explain why he dropped into hell! Explain my preference! I never had a preference for her, any more than I have a preference for breathing. No other woman exists by the side of her. I would rather touch her hand if it were dead, than I would touch any other woman's living.
"Why, captain Sisko, it's a love story!"
Was he blushing? Ziyal could have sworn his colour had shifted.
"It's more of a - social story. It's about a small town in England, quite deep in Earths's past. I find it fascinating how little about human passions and relationships has changed since then."
"Thank you very much for the suggestion, captain. I'll get a copy for my padd, but I can't take these. They seem valuable."
"But I thought you collected them."
Ziyal glanced over at Julian, who didn't blush in the slightest. Sisko smiled, his trademark broad smile.
"Please, take them. They have kept me company for many years. Now, they can keep *you* company."
"Because I need them more?"
"Yes."
Now everyone was smiling, as if she had won a prize. See?, they seemed to say. We're all good friends here, nothing to be suspicious of. We talk of books and love and the finer things in life. Tora's knife was still in it's place. The questions started with dessert. Had she heard from her father. Hadn't she been on his ship before going to the University on Bajor. Why had she decided to leave. All very casual, between bites of a really very good cake of a deep purple colour.
"It was all quite violent, Commander. I think I've had my fill of violence for a long while. Hopefully, for the rest of my life."
"Of course, I understand. Still, it must be hard to be away from your father…"
"It's the life he has chosen, and I respect that. But he never wanted me there, and after a few days, I understood why. As much as I want to be with him, I could never live like that."
Ziyal made sure her voice trembled just a little. Her fork fell to the floor, and there, much faster than she would have thought possible for such a big man, was Riker, picking it up and putting it back on the table. Looking straight into her eyes.
He wants something. The thought went through her like a flash, and with it went the certainty that it had nothing to do with Lamar Torel. As fast and as silent as he had come, he as back at the other end of the room again, speaking to Jadzia.
A second later, Ziyal felt Commander Sisko's hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry to have brought it up."
Ziyal said: "I don't think you are."
The conversations stopped. Jadzia raised an eyebrow. Kira said "Ziyal!", but a look from Odo kept her from saying anything else. This was obviously not something you said to Commander Sisko, but he, to his credit, didn't flinch.
"I am sorry to have hurt your feeling or caused you grief. But I am not sorry to have asked those questions, that is true. There are things I need to know."
"Of course, Commander. My father is a dangerous man, and it is your duty to gather as much information about him as you can. I am his daughter and probably the person closest to him right now. It would be foolish not to try and get some information out of me. What did I see? What did he tell me? What did he do? Is he on contact with me somehow? Here I am, living on your station, stuffing myself with your food, doing nothing for my keep. What's a little harmless information in return for all that?"
Even Sisko looked flustered now, and Jadzia had raised both eyebrows, which somehow made her look very young. Odo had his hand on Kira's shoulder, but the look on the Major's face was strained. Bashir leaned back on the couch and tucked into his second piece of cake, seemingly unaware that there was anything out of the ordinary going on. A slight smile played around William Riker's mouth.
"I agree with you, Commander. You need information and I will give you what I have, because what else can I give you? Did my father tell me things? Oh yes, Commander, he did. He told me that he loved me very much, that he was glad he didn't kill me. Because he should have, did you know that? I'm a bastard, my mother was a Bajoran, I am the lowest creature there is. But he loves me, and he told me so, many times. He said that I should leave him and go and learn about the world, because he had a mission, and with me by his side he couldn't fulfil his duty. Did I see things? Oh yes, I saw things. I saw dirt and sweat and blood and soldiers. Bored soldiers, unhappy soldiers, drunk soldiers, soldiers who wanted to get me into their bunks but were too afraid to even look at me because they knew my father would kill them without a second thought. Oh, and I saw some rats, too. Very fat ones. Do you think I could have another piece of cake? It *is* delicious, Commander. Did you make it yourself?"
That night, for the first time in years, Ziyal slept well. She placed the books the Commander had given her on her nightstand, and the smell of leather and musty pages lulled her to sleep. In her dreams, she wandered a very large, very fine hall, lined with books from floor to ceiling, the biggest library there existed. Somewhere in this library, she knew, there was a man, and the man was sewing a dress for her. She could see it, in her dream, a dress of a purple shade, with gold stitching. It was a good feeling to know that someone, somewhere, was making something for her.
The next morning, before the dream and the feeling of well-being that had come with it had completely dissipated, Ziyal made a call.
"Tora Ziyal to doctor Bashir. If you are not too busy, do you think it would be possible to make our little visit to the tailor's shop today? In half an hour? Perfect, I'll meet you there."
Getting dressed in front of the mirror, Tora made one, two, three slashed across her breast with one of her little knifes. It wouldn't have been necessary, though. Ziyal remembered who she was.
